Page 51 of Always Earned, Never Given

Declan

“Belle, what’s going on? Tell me what you’re thinking?” I ask, cupping her shivering face in my hands.

She turns her head to kiss my palm, then closes her eyes. “Isn’t it supposed to be the girl who wants to know what the guy is thinking?”

“Maybe, but I still want to know.” I lean forward and gently kiss her lips. I hold her forehead to mine, leaving our lips only a breath apart. “You okay?”

She takes my ball cap off and wraps her hands around the back of my neck, running her fingers through my wet hair. “Why are you so patient with me, Declan? I keep pushing you away. Why do you keep coming back?” A tear drips down her rain-soaked face.

“Because you’re worth it.” I wipe the tear away with my thumb. “You’re worth everything. I’ll wait as long as you need me to because I know that this,” I motion between the two of us, “is going to be the endgame, Annabelle. This is going to be the thing that changes my life. Nothing needs to happen right now. I didn’t come here for that. I came here because you needed help, and I needed to be the one helping you. I know you can take care of yourself, but you don’t have to do it all alone. You keep insisting that you don’t have room in your life for anything else. But let me in. Let me show you what it can be like when you have someone to help carry the load. We can take this as slow as you need to. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t know how to do this, Declan. I don’t know how to let you in. I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t alone.”

“Your pace, Belle.” I run my hand over her wet hair and try to convince her, “Your pace.”

She leans her head against my drenched shoulder, and I hear a sob catch on a laugh. “We’re soaking wet, Dec. Your clothes are so cold.”

“Yup.” I pull her away from my body so I can see her face. “We’re wet and cold. We should probably go home and get warm and dry. What do ya say?”

“Yeah. We can’t have Philly’s favorite quarterback catching a cold because of me.” I hate that stupid nickname. “The city would never forgive me.” She stands up and holds her hand out. “Come on. I’ve got to get Tommy. You want to come over for dinner? I could actually cook this time.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

The smile that graces her delicate face could light up the entire Kings stadium. “It’d be nice to cook for another adult. I’m sick of nuggets and mac n’ cheese. I’ve got some salmon and veggies I can roast. Super healthy, I promise.”

“Annabelle, are you inviting me over for dinner?” I ask curiously.

She shoves me back. Well, she tries too. “Shut up. You’ve eaten at our house every week for the last month.” When she moves to pull her hand away, I wrap my fingers around her wrist and pull her body against mine.

“I’ve eaten at your house, but Tommy’s invited me. Not you.” Those eyes roll, dimples pop deep in those cheeks, and my smile grows by the second. “I feel like I just got a first down, Hart. Let me enjoy it, would ya?”

“Watch it, Sinclair, or I’ll take it back. Let’s get out of here.”

When we get back outside, the weather’s gotten worse, if that’s possible. We stop under the awning, and Belle turns to me. “Listen, I’m just going to grab Tommy and head to my house. Do you have a gym bag in your car? Because I don’t have any dry clothes that would fit you at my house.”

“I do keep a gym bag in my car. Somebody’s been paying attention.”

“Zip it, buster. All the guys do the same thing. It doesn’t make sense for you to drive back into the city. Why don’t you head to my house? There’s a key under the front mat. Just let yourself in. We’ll be a few minutes behind you.”

“Annabelle, are you insane? That’s not safe. What the hell?”

Her body stiffens, and she glares at me, annoyance written all over her face. “Can we argue about this when we’re both warm and dry? Please?”

Grabbing her face in both hands, I kiss her until she turns soft and pliant. “Yeah, okay. But we are going to talk about this later. See you soon.”

I don’t leave the parking lot until I see her car pull away. Belle heads to pick up Tommy, and I go to her house. Her damn key was exactly where she said it would be. When I walk inside, I notice the keypad to the alarm next to the door, but it wasn’t armed. She’s not going to be happy with me when I also get on her case about that later. What the hell? She needs to be safer than this. If she’s so good about arming the studio’s alarm, why would she be so careless at home?

I go upstairs, searching for a linen closet and a towel and use what I’m guessing is Tommy’s bathroom, judging by the dinosaur decals on the walls and the shower curtain. Even the giant green rug on the white tile floor is shaped like a triceratops. I decide to quickly jump in the shower to warm up and stand under the hot spray. The lavender vanilla body wash in here smells like Annabelle and makes me smile. It also makes me hard as hell, remembering what it was like to smell that scent while I licked my way up her beautiful body.

Christ, is it wrong to jerk off in a kid’s shower? I pump my cock in my hand and get lost in the smell and memory until I hear the door slam open and the lid on the toilet seat get thrown back.

Oh, shit.

Have I mentioned the vinyl shower curtain is clear with only a few multicolored dinosaurs, not so strategically placed for a six-foot-six man? When Tommy flushes the toilet, the water turns ice cold, and I try to hold in the yelp that almost escapes. He must hear me move away from the showerhead because he turns around much more calmly than I was expecting and stares at me before yelling, “Belles...” He draws out her name. “Declan’s in my shower, and his bird is way bigger than mine.”

Oh, fuck.

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